His Eyes
by Bitway
Summary: From the start, Hiroto never liked the way Tatsuya looked at him. {Ares fic. based on ep 18, Hiroto-centric.}


Small hands tightly hold onto the soccer ball, fingers pressing hard against the surface of it. He didn't want to let it go, to have a chance to slip out of his grasp. The thought of it dropping and somehow breaking a priceless artifact indoors was daunting. Even if it didn't come with a scolding, just that same old look, he didn't want that to happen again.

Hiroto had made the decision to play outdoors with his ball. He didn't want a repeat of last time's incident, which meant that he'd have to play out in the gardens and not worry about accidentally breaking some piece of expensive displays. The young boy had pushed the ball underneath one arm so he could push open the front door. He was met with the view of his home, the lush and over the top entrance that showed off his families wealth. He didn't care much for it and what it all meant.

Just as he's about to take the small steps down to meet with gravel, he freezes in place. Not too far from him, he spots someone, another boy, a child around his age with bright red hair. He is playing with a soccer ball, trying to balance it on his foot. He manages to do so, even if only for a few seconds. And then it teeters and falls. It bounces on the ground before beginning to roll over in Hiroto's direction.

The thought to not be seen by this child crosses his mind. He's not sure why, something in his gut just tells him he should be getting a move on. He's a stranger here, in a way. Maybe his sister had brought him here, he was young and could be from the orphanage. They were usually the only kids aside from him that were allowed to be this close to their home.

Without worrying over these thoughts, he begins to move, stay upon the concrete and try to quicken his pace. Maybe he could play in another portion of the gardens. All he needed to do was get out of this kid's sight.

"Hey!"

And maybe he was just a little too late to try for an escape.

His feet come to a slow, an eventual stop. Hiroto turns as he knows that 'hey' was addressed to him- who else would it be here? The other boy had managed to catch the ball in his hands, holding it and, surprisingly, keeping some distance. The red haired boy wears a smile, those teal eyes glowing. For a second, he seems to be radiating a soft light around him.

"Do you want to play with me?"

"Huh?"

The simple question catches Hiroto off guard, even if he had seen it coming a mile away. His excuse is having been too distracted- blinded by this kid's light.

The boy holds up his ball slightly and then motions his head towards the ball underneath Hiroto's arm. "You like soccer to, right? We can play together then. If you want to, that is."

"I, uhh-"

He flounders with an actual response and is actually grateful that something- someone starts to exit from his home. His head turns, curious to see if it was his sister or his father. It happened to be the latter, he should have guessed.

The young boy watches, falling silent. He wonders if he'll be acknowledged, wonders if he'll tell him to go play somewhere specific, wonders if he'll just say hello, wonders if he even cares if he gets hurt or not.

It's no surprise when his father doesn't say a single thing.

Not to him anyway.

When his feet reach the last step, his head turns over to the two boys. He notices his father's gaze, sees how it goes to the stranger instead of him. Hiroto bites his lower lip, unintentionally putting pressure against the ball held against his little body.

"Ah, Tatsuya, come here for a second."

"Mm, okay!"

This 'Tatsuya' kid runs over to him without a second thought. Something about this irks Hiroto. How he's being called over and not him. How he's calling his name and not his.

He wants to leave, he really does. But his feet just don't move, his eyes stay fixated upon the two. They talk and all he can do is watch. Whatever they're talking about, it doesn't matter. It could be about anything and he really wouldn't care. The only thing that mattered was that his father was giving his attention to someone else.

Why him? Why some orphan instead of his own flesh and blood? What made him so important? It's not like Tatsuya was so special. He didn't want to think he was; that would make him nothing in comparison.

He shakes his head, forces himself from looking away. It was hard to wrap his head around this. It hurt, physically and mentally. It left a strange feeling bubbling inside of his chest, one he couldn't put a name to. It feels bad, but doesn't feel so foreign to him.

Just before he could take a single step, he hears that voice again.

"Hiroto!"

Tatsuya had called for him, by his name (maybe his father had told him it), as he began running back to his previous spot, before his father had lured him away. The boy acted as if nothing had happened, as if they had never been interrupted. That same blissful expression was on his face, and maybe he was just imagining things, but his eyes seemed to have gained another sparkle to them.

"So, you want to play with me?" Tatsuya asks. Cheerful. Innocent. "Maybe we can be friends to. Like teammates! We can make a team and take on the Football Frontier. We can even become national champions together!"

Hiroto didn't think he ever saw someone so damn happy about one thing. Over soccer of all things. Something about it- about him, made him feel sick to his stomach.

For a moment, he considers this being set up by his father. For them to be friends of sorts. But no, the thought is brushed aside so quickly. It's not like he cared about him enough to set him up on a play date.

Pink eyes stare into teal ones. The longer he looks at them, the more he feels like he's going to be sucked in by them. To be tempted to go along with him. But, he won't. The light in his eyes are too bright. Even as he had gone silent, hesitating in an answer, the light had yet to crash and burn.

"No thanks," Hiroto spits out, sounding cold. "I don't have time to play with you."

Tatsuya's face falls. Part of him enjoys the feeling as if he'd won somehow. But his eyes, they hadn't changed. Somehow, it didn't even look as if a shadow had been cast on his shine.

He doesn't want to keep looking at them- at him.

So, he runs.

~…~

Hiroto lets out a loud, obnoxious yawn. Even while he was sitting alone in the stands of the stadium with no one around, he doubts even those on the field could hear it. It hadn't stopped him from doing it anyway. The boy leans back in his seat, gaze going from the sky to those fools running around on the field, doing their usual lame and boring practices all while following their captain.

Tatsuya.

His gaze finds his way to to that damned red head. His expression was serious these days. It had something to do with him wanting to pay back their dad (or should he say Tatsuya's 'dad'). Winning this Football Frontier was also a factor, he guessed. He had heard countless times how it was just _so_ important to him- to all of them. How this dumb sport could be taken so seriously, he couldn't understand it.

He leans forward in his seat, as if it would help him get a better, closer view of Tatsuya. He watches as he commands the team, tells them what they're going to practice on today. That what he's guessing anyway. It's a thing captains do, isn't it?

Hiroto keeps his stare on him. Part of him was hoping that he'd break and crumble under pressure of being captain. He had to be holding all their dreams together as their leader. If he failed, he'd fail them all, father included. Although, it hardly seemed like that would happen. He didn't want to admit that he was stronger than he looked. Maybe it was just that damned look in his eyes that made him seem that way.

As if he were finally picking up on the stare, Tatsuya turns his head once the others leave him. Their eyes meet and hold. And Hiroto hated the way he was being looked at with those eyes.

Those eyes that were still bright, quietly hopeful, wishful, still calling out for him, asking him to be his friend- to be one of them. After all these years, he would have expected them to lose their shine, for some type of shadows to creep in and overcome it. That never happened.

It was nauseating to keep staring.

Hiroto breaks eye contact, shutting his eyes and forcing himself up from his seat. He questions why he bothered coming here again today. It's not like he ever practiced. He didn't need to.

"Hiroto!"

He hears his name being called and he reluctantly stops on the steps. His gaze returns to the field, to Tatsuya. He sees the others on the team had stopped and turned, probably curious to see why he bothered shouting out his name.

Tatsuya doesn't say anything. Does he even need to? No. His eyes say it all.

 _'Come play with us, Hiroto.'_

 _'Be part of the team.'_

 _'Let's become national champions- together!'_

Hiroto's tongue clicks in annoyance. He didn't need to deal with him today. Without bothering to throw a comment his way, he turns his back to the team. He resumes leaving the stadium.

It was better that he didn't have to face them- him on his way out. To see those damned eyes and their brightness. He was still reaching out to him, but Hiroto wouldn't even give him a chance to get close.

Because some things will never change.


End file.
